


Memories and Morphine

by ohgeezitssam



Category: Third Star (2010)
Genre: Cancer, Gen, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-25 05:24:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/949114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohgeezitssam/pseuds/ohgeezitssam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An idea that I've come into terms with and have grown very fondly of during the brainstorming process and gathering ideas together.</p><p>In addition to the 2010 film Third Star, I wanted to create a sort of back story for the lead character James, as well as his family and friends.</p><p>I do realize that this could be a hit or a miss for some people, but I really do hope that you all enjoy it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions... Mainly.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I'll only post this once, since it's useless to post it continuously, but none of these characters belong to me. The belong to the writing team for the flim Third Star, as well as the director - the magnificent Hattie Dalton.

It's hard to believe, isn't it? _You're dying_. I don't think I know - Well, knew anyone who really wanted to die. Besides suicidal people, of course. Brave inside, but a coward on the outside as they stare exactly as life's greatest and most deadliest obstacle. Life itself. You see, that's the thing about life. It can either keep you together or it can rip you apart, limp from limb until you're left with your bare soul; lost and unsure.

Mine won't be lost, however. Since I was a kid, I had a very good sense of direction. I can remember the days when Mum and Dad used to take my sister and I on day trips to the fields of Wales. It may sound weak of me to say 'fields', but that's literally all they were. Fields and fields of tall grass and weeds. Chloe, my sister, would always be worried that we would get lost or eaten by horses or we would have to learn to live amongst the sheep the roamed by or lived at the nearest farm. She was always such an unusual child, but nonetheless, I could always find our way back to our parents. Warm spring afternoons; breezy and fresh air continuously pumping into your lungs. Although, one day had been different. One that would give me a fresh outlook of when 'life' was in fact on my side. Life and time.

I was thirteen years old. A brisk, autumn, early afternoon that my family, myself and my mate from school, Miles, decided to head onto one of our day trips to Wales. A special place, Wales. Where al of my most dearest memories and even to this day, are kept. My dad had actually and accidentally taken a wrong turn to our usual destination and we soon ended up elsewhere. A beach. It went by the name of _Barafundle Bay_. It had to of been the most beautiful place I had ever seen. Large rocks that surrounded the area; almost like walls to act as some sort of preservation. The same under our shoes was a golden being that glimmered underneath the sunlight. And the water - _Christ_ , the water. It looked fresh enough to be drinking water. It was fresh enough, in fact. When noticing how immense our surroundings really were, Miles and I were absolutely sure that we wanted to stay here, instead. To relax and swim, of course. Chloe was indifferent since she hadn't learned how to swim. Shame that she really wouldn't learn at all.

Mum advised us not to go into the water, since the weather was significantly chilly. She reminded us that the because of it, the water would most likely be double in coldness... And it was. Fuck, it was. I could see Miles ahead of me, shouting out repetitively. 

"It's cold! _Holy shit_ , it's cold!" 

Since we hadn't prepared ourselves for swimming that day, we went out in our pants. A stupid choice really, but we were young boys. We didn't have to think, nor did we ever think. I could only laugh and agree with him, but in my head I was just so bloody delighted. Delighted from my chattering teeth and from the shivers that moved up my spine and through my entire nervous system. We would splash each other and float against the waves, unfortunately becoming further and further away from my mother who was desperately calling for us to return to the shoreline. Although, we didn't much listen immediately. We never did.

He was always the rebellious kind of person, Miles. I'm guessing it was because of his father. His dad was an author and a good one, too. It made both Miles and I want to be writer's too, in the long run. At the age of twenty-nine, his dad has already published three well advertised and well sold books. To this day, I still have them on my bookshelf in order. It's been a while since I've read them, though. I'd read them so often as a kid, that I can still recite most of the chapters. I sometimes would recite them to Miles' dad. He would be so pleased and praise me. Telling me that I had a 'taste of literary genius'. A funny man, he was. I think Miles hated when I did that. I remember one night in mid April that I was sleeping over at his place. We were seated on his bed, resting our backs against the hall when he came out and said it.

"My dad likes you more than me, you know." He didn't even look at me when he spoke, having his head turned and picking at a loose string at the end of his duvet.

I really couldn't believe what he was telling me. We both were well aware that the statement had not been true, but why would he say such a thing regardless? I tried to tell him that it wasn't true, but he seemed to ignore everything that I had to say in return without a pause.

"He's always going on about you. How you're practically his number one fan." Miles retorted with a slow sigh that escaped his nose. Careful, but it wasn't irritated. I didn't think he was irritated, at least. "He's only ever out of his office when you're over. He's such an amazing man, Jim. An amazing man and yet, he only shares it with you."

"Miles, you know that's not true." I replied, hoping that he would listen to me this time, that I could get some sense into that mind of his. If there was one thing about Miles, it was - Well, two things, but besides having already lost his virginity, he was always the one to hold a grudge. 

He didn't really say much after that. Mainly because he knew that I was right about his accusation being entirely false. It wouldn't be correct to say that he was possessive or jealous of his dad. Despite being the type of person that ended up getting everyone in trouble at school, bar himself, he was still a kid. A kid that wanted a parents attention.

There was nothing wrong with that. He just shouldn't have felt so... Obligated to stand his ground. Moments later, he turned out the light and briskly went to sleep in quite a flash. Though I knew he wasn't. The bags underneath his eyes the following morning would prove so. We never did talk about that night again. A memory filed in the back of a dusty cabinet.

-

I was never close to just one of my parents like Miles was. My family always had such a good relationship with each other. I mean sure, we've had our arguments, but what family hasn't? If we didn't argue, that would have made us out to be like the fucking Stepford Wives or the Brady Bunch, wouldn't it? Although for the most part, we did have good fun together. I can see all of their smiles, now; hear their laughter. It feels like forever since those times. Maybe it has been.

My dad, Mark, was always an outdoors man. Even before enlisting in the War of Vietnam. He grew up, typically, on a farm with his parents, two sisters and three brothers. I can't remember who's older and who's younger, but rest assured he's in there somewhere. Most people would say that it would be difficult growing up in the middle of nowhere, but not to him. He always told us that it was much easier. On the countryside of Essex, there wasn't really much around them. Fields and farms, walking for miles to get to school and all of that crap, but there was never any drama; anything to stop and stare about. You were never distracted from the things and work that needed to get done in the day. My dad would mention that sometimes, in the summer months, he would just sleep outside in the backyard with a blanket and a pillow - when it wasn't raining or storming - and just lay with the stars.

Stars. My soon fixation with the nebulas and cosmos would only feverishly increase as I would grow older. My obsession. The healthy one, at least.

Mum. Such a lovely woman. Her name, especially. Geraldine. Her friends called her Gerry, for short. She was absolutely beautiful. Light brown locks and bright blue eyes. It sounds simple in words, but sometimes the most simplest of things are the most magnificent. I was sometimes actually envious at how Chloe inherited her looks. Then again, I was deemed 'most handsome' in my graduating year. Believe it or not, my mum was actually the city slicker growing up. Born and raised in London where her family owned this flower shop, 'Geraldine's Bouquet'. She was an only child, so her parents really had no problem in naming the shop. It's actually where my parents met for the first time. It sounds ridiculously cheesy, yes, but... It was always refreshing to hear. They married in 1982 and in two years time, they would be blessed with their first child.

Me.

With Chloe following two years later.

My earliest memory was at the age of five. I remember that my mum had taken me and Chloe to her flower shop while Dad was at work - he worked in a manufacturing company. Cars, I think. I can just remember stepping inside, holding onto her hand as I watched in awe at the tall flowers and plants. They were so tall; tall enough to reach the sky. Though at that age, everything seemed tall enough to pass through the clouds. Because Chloe was still in a stroller, my mum would always let me pick one flower that I liked to take home for my room. Now, I don't remember this, but she would tell me that I would end up choosing a flower that was slowly wilting away and when she asked me why, I would tell her that I wanted to nurse it back to life. At the time, I wasn't aware that flowers would always die. I wasn't aware that everything would soon die.

I was so fucking innocent.


	2. Best Friends 'til the End.

It wasn't until Miles and I were fifteen that we would meet Bill and Davy. It'd been the new school year and believe it or not, they had already been friends prior to meeting us. They were a strange pair, however. Davy rarely spoke to us, but when he did, his head was always down and he would mumble. I supposed that he was just shy, so I would try to make him feel more at ease with his new surroundings, unlike Miles; criticizing the poor kid for rarely uttering a word. That was the only point in my life where I couldn't stand being around Miles. I dn't know why he would act like such a complete twat. I never commented on it; just ignored it and when on with my days. I feel now as if I should have said something. Just something.

Although, it wasn't so bad in the end. During that time, I'd managed to become realy good friends with Davy. He would soon come out of his shell and I could see him for who he really was and how Bill saw him. I was actually quite ecstatic to see him smile and laugh and talk about his interests; showing his personality. It was kind, sweet, funny and vulgar all at the same time and every story he had to tell me always had me in hysterics. I would invite Davy to stay over at my place as much as I could. When he was free or when Bill was away visiting family or when Miles wasn't letting himself in unannounced. Though he would always agree to coming over. I liked that about him. I think my parents even liked him more than Miles. He was just so polite to them and would stay like that even with me in a way.

Miles was never like that. I don't know how many times that my mother had to tell him to stop swearing so much and that he was the reason that I started saying those words in the first place. She was probably right. I doubt that it was from any of her soap operas.

When I would have Davy over, we would always have a right laugh. He would always be quick to jokes and understanding mine, even. I'm not saying that the other's didn't. It's was just, well... He and I connected more. The problem was, that I wasn't sure if Miles and Bill were quite aware of that. He was the only one who was really interested in astrology, as well. He didn't know as much as me, but he would always be tentative when I was informing him upon such topic. He would try and contribute and ask questions. There were even times where he would insist that we should have gone outside to watch the stars to see if we could spot any sort of nebula or even a constellation of sorts. I think that it was that moment where I declared to myself that he really turned out to be my best mate.

Although with Davy, there was a confusing time in my life. I think it was during finals week and he had agreed to stay over for the weekend, since Bill had found himself a girlfriend and Miles was letting his cock direct him in life. Those times weren't exactly lonely, but they were quite different. Days would go by where it would just be me and Davy on our own, but like I said, it wasn't lonely. Anyway, I remember it nearing the middle of the night, so we were seemed to either be fast asleep or very quiet. So, we spoke in hushed tones. Well, Davy did for the most part. I would just lay beside him and listen. He would tell me stories about his own childhood and how it hadn't been an easy one. His mum walked out on him and his dad when he was about ten, leaving them both to try and find a way to pay their rent, which resulted in them constantly house hopping. Sad, really, but he told me of the one silver lining. Amongst the troubling times, did he meet a rather curious family. He described them to be "nearly hippies" and by that, he meant very bohemian, but useful when it came to technology. In fact, it turned out to be Bill and his family - which had me in quiet hysterics. 

Bill came from a long line of free - spirited people. From both sides of the family. Both "nearly hippies". He would always dress in the strangest clothes, too. They were mostly made out of organic material. I suppose they had to do something to make up for the fact that they were still polluting the Earth by using telephones and computers and cars. However, his house was really something else - mainly the garden. I'd never seen so many flowers since my mum's shop. They grew neatly and brightly with butterflies and bees floating and fluttering around gracefully to take their share of the pollen provided. The sight alone may as well of been the definitiion of tranquility.

Anyway, when Davy would share these stories, I would normally be listening - being as polite as he was towards me. However on that particular night, it felt completely different. I wasn't sure on what was happened, but I felt a sudden warmth towards his presence - a comfort, but it worried me. How my skin would flush and my stomach turned. I feared that I might have liked this boy a little too much. I didn't think that I was gay. Not really. I mean, I'd never had those sort of feelings with any other boy. I'd never looked at a boy and wanted to kiss him; wanted to hold his hand or anything. So... Why had I felt this way around my friend? I was truthfully nervous and afraid. I didn't know what would happen if he were to find out. So, naturally... I wouldn't tell him. It wasn't worth this frustration to lose a friend just as great as Davy.

Afterwards however, things... Well, to put it lightly, things became strange. Not between me and Davy, but more so me and Miles. It would be less and less that he would get into contact with me, or me being able to get into contact with him. I wouldn't exactly say that he had disappeared from the face of the earth. I still sat with him at school, as well as Davy and Bill. I didn't think he had a problem with them. Hell, if you were to ask him now, he'd probably tell you the same story. Well, maybe he would. Everyone has their own side of things, don't they? Whenever I tried to get into contact with him, it would either be his mother telling him he was busy or doing his homework or out. And when I atually got a hold of Miles? The same story. I was starting to think that I had done something wrong to upset him. Had I? Naturally, I left it alone. I was never a young boy to get involved with conflict. I wasn't even one that was in front of a lot of conflict.

-

It was a few years later that my obsession with stars had really begun. They say that in the years of being seventeen and eighteen are supposed to be the most reckless, but if I was perfectly honest, I found them to be the most stressful. The grades, the university, the girls. Christ, the girls. There were times were it was nearly unbearable. I soon found out that I was as near as good at coping under all those stress factors as Bill, or equally as good with his grades and the girls as Miles. It seemed that in ways, Davy and I were in the same boat as each other. Davy would mostly toss back a few beers to straighten his head out - or maybe loosen it up - whereas I would grab a blanket and a flashlight and even just lay out back in the garden, head tilted up at the sky and trying to see as many stars as possible. Every constellation, even though it neared impossible. I always tried to bet with myself that some incredible phenomenon would happen and a new one would appear. Maybe one day I could say that I'd seen all of the zodiac signs in one night. Wouldn't that be a laugh. My parents would think that I was drugged up or something.

Drugged up at seventeen? Much to early, wouldn't you agree?


End file.
